


Ecstasy

by DanOfVulcan



Series: The Tucker-Reed Playroom [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Trip, Kink, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tuckereed, Watersports, sub!Malcolm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8485300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanOfVulcan/pseuds/DanOfVulcan





	

Malcolm was sitting on his heels, panting, his body covered in sweat, still shaky. Trip was hugging him from behind, also seated, one hand on Malcolm’s hips and the other cupping the latter’s balls, equally exhausted, but still holding tight to his husband, which, in reality, was a good thing; Malcolm wasn’t entirely sure he could keep steady.

“Mal” - Trip broke the silence, hands gently caressing his husband - “are you okay, love?”

Malcolm nodded as an answer. The use of the petname didn’t go unnoticed by the Englishman.

It had been an intense scene, and Malcolm for one was exhausted. Trip didn’t seem to be in much of a better shape himself, and by now the cold tiled floor was starting to feel a bit too cold in the aftermath of their orgasm.

Malcolm thought the scene was over, taking it from his husband's use of the petname - which he never did during the scenes, since Malcolm had asked so - and all the cuddling. Trip was never cuddle-gentle during their scenes. Sure, he wasn’t rude, and there was more than a tinge of pretending since he was still getting the hang of it, but he never hugged Malcolm, or better yet it held him lovingly. Whenever he did touch the Englishman it was in a possessing, commanding way, which made Malcolm yearn for more.

That’s when he felt Trip’s hand move from his balls, where it had been cupping the hairy ballsack, to grab at the half-hard penis.

“Trip?”

“Mmm?” the blonde offered, caressing his husband’s penis.

“I don’t think I’m up to anything tonight anymore,” Malcolm said as Trip brushed his fingers through dark pubic hair. “I’m exhausted, love”.

“Don’t worry” - Trip half-whispered as both hands came around Malcolm’s torso in a gentle embrace - “I’m not in much of a decent shape myself”, and laughed about it, kissing his husband’s hair. “I just really love playing with your bush”, he added, weaving his fingers through the dense hair.

There was a time when Malcolm Reed would’ve found such words to be downright vulgar. However, after years with his husband, and letting go of his inhibitions, he thought it was both loving and sexy how much Trip loved him in all his tiniest details.

“This floor is getting pretty cold,” Trip broke the silence after a while, “isn’t it, Mal?”

“I was just thinking that,” Malcolm replied, as he gently freed himself from Trip’s embrace, mentally cursing the sudden loss of warmth in his back. “Besides” - the Englishman continued, as he stood up and stretched his muscles - “I actually need to go to the toilet”.

Trip got on his knees, closed the distance between the two of them with a couple of strides, and embraced Malcolm, hands around the Englishman’s waist, and rested his head against the lower abdomen of his husband. The dark bush, musky smell assailing his nostrils, was only a couple of centimeters away.

“Gotta pee, Mal?” The joking tone didn’t go unnoticed by the dark haired man.

 “I do, actually,” came the reply as Malcolm tried untangling his husband's arms from his waist, to no avail. “Trip?”

“Mmm?”

“I really have to go to the loo, darling” There was an urgency to his husband’s tone.

Trip held tight to his husband’s waist.

“Trip!”

The blonde looked up, and Malcolm was startled at the sight of once-blue-now-black eyes staring at him.

“Do it here,” the blonde said, never breaking eye contact.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Why?”

“Here?!” Malcolm was a bit shocked, truly. “Do you mean” - he gestured with his arms to indicate the general surroundings - “in here?”

“Why, love,” Trip began, all innocence and candor, “that’s why I had this room all tiled,” the blonde’s smile was boyish with more than a hint of mischief. “So we could dabble in water sports”.

If Malcolm had only been mildly shocked, he was now agast.

“Trip, are you implying…” Malcolm began only to be interrupted by Trip, whom had gotten up and was now holding his husband’s face.

“Mal, please?”

The Englishman stammered.

“If you don’t want to, or feel uncomfortable about it…” the blonde offered.

Malcolm had collected enough of his thoughts to give it a try. “It’s not that,” he started. “You see,” he began, hesitantly, “I thought the scene was over. And, to be honest, I thought I had made it clear that I wanted you…” and Trip interrupted him.

“Oh, oh, I got that, and I hope I’m doing well, love!” the blonde muttered excitedly, holding Malcolm’s face with both hands. “This has nothing to do with what we just did” - Trip said as he got on his knees - “this is something extra. Think of it as…” he paused for a second. “Think of it as stand-alone kink I’ve had in mind for a while.”

Malcolm still looked a bit incredulous. They kept each other’s gaze for a few moments more.

“Alright,” Malcolm said. “What should I do?” he asked, somewhat embarrassed.

“Relax,” Trip said, tone playful. “And enjoy?”

Malcolm actually giggled at the face his husband was making. It was a boyish expression, yet sexy and cocky, and the fact his husband was looking up at him made it all sexier and more playful. The Englishman closed his eyes, and relaxed as he aimed at his husband’s chest.

The warm, golden liquid hit Trip square in the chest en force. Against his already cooling skin, it felt both energizing and cleansing, and as it ran down the hairy chest, Trip instinctively ran his hands over his now wet skin, in absolute ecstasy. The blonde rubbed his thighs as the urine flowed over his legs, his mind shut down for the time being, his brain working solely on instinct. He leaned forward so as to have the stream hit him in the face. Golden shower rained over a blonde beard. Trip was beyond himself, truly, and as he felt the stream weaken his brain provided him with the knowledge that it was now or never. So, he swiftly sat back on his heels, opened his mouth, and savored the taste of Malcolm’s urine. It hit him square in the mouth, quickly filling it, and as Trip gushed out the golden liquid, so did Malcolm let out the last drops.

The Englishman was astounded. His husband had never acted in such a primeval way, almost mindless. His eyes were absolutely black so dilated were his pupils, his physiognomy was that of both ecstasy and elation. His gaze was unfocused, though he was staring in the general direction of Malcolm’s face. All in all, it looked as if Trip had had an spiritual experience.

As Malcolm kneeled in a pool of cooling urine, and gazed at a sight of utter serenity, his husband, in front of him, had his eyes closed, his breath deep and slow, every muscle in his face relaxed, his posture one of calm and relaxation.

“Trip, love?”

The blonde finally smiled. “Thank you” - he said, extending his hands to hold onto his husband’s - “it was so deep, Mal”. If eyes could speak, Trip’s would be giving graces to his husband.

Malcolm then hugged him, skins greeting one another, and held his husband in a gently, loving embrace.


End file.
